Gotta Have a Reason
by JohnPaulGeorgeandRingo
Summary: After being driven to distraction by the voice of the first boy she ever kissed, Rogue ventures into a rundown bar. But a talk with Logan gives her pause for thought and she learns the true meaning of friendship. AU/ONESHOT


_**Okay, so this was originally posted under x-men comics. But I decided that it really belongs under movies. I think the characters fit better here.**_

_**I started thinking; what if after Rogue absorbed David she had some difficulties? In the first movie it was all so easy. Either that or it was never mentioned. So I wrote this.**_

_**Also I decided to make this an 'AU' **_

_**Rogue doesn't believe that she fits in well at the institute and is basically friendless or so she thinks.**_

_**I'll warn you now that this fic has a totally cute, soppy and heart warming ending! ;) Reviews are always welcome! and a thank you to Roguelover who has already reviewed this fic.

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**Gotta Have A Reason**

_You gotta have a reason. A reason to believe, a reason just to dream - Bon Jovi_

This place looks slightly alarming, depressing and down right unpleasant but I'd say it certainly has something. A rough charm maybe, there is definitely an underline attraction that I can't put my finger on.

My first visit to a bar and I choose this one, Harry's Hideout. It has a rather unremarkable name and the clientele look dare I say it, quite unsavory but I have to step out of my comfort zone sometime. Its time I mixed with people from all walks of life and hopefully find myself a friend or two.

"Ah hope ya happy now David?" I hiss sullenly. "If ya want beer, ah'll give ya beer." I've been harassed for what seems like days and its starting to grate on my last nerve.

I only have one demanding tenant in my head thank the lord and he used to be such an affectionate, well mannered boy. But becoming a permanent fixture in my mind has twisted him into a unrecognizable character. He knows how to wear my resolve down with his constant belittling and maliciously cruel words that he fires at me with such hatred. Hatred that will only bring me to tears. I'll always submit to his commands for a sip of his favourite beverage; not only because the beer pacifies his behaviour but it also has a welcomed effect on me. I become so much more exuberant, I'm no longer the bashful and hesitant Rogue that the X-men took an instant dislike to.

"David stop!" I cry in anguish as he wails boorishly in my head. "Ah'm goin' in kay'. "Please stop yellin' it hurts." He knows that it hurts I tell myself, he enjoys torturing me. Gone is the boy I took a liking to in Meridian Mississippi to be replaced by an accomplished manipulator I'm trapped with for eternity. I inhale wearily attempting to gain the courage I lack to step into another environment that I don't belong in. "Alright." I groan as another wave of agonizing pain rips through my already exhausted mind. I brush a trembling gloved hand through my trademark striped hair and walk into the world of drunks, slackers and has beens.

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"Ah'll have another beer please." I inform the haggard looking bartender, who at no time asks to see the I.D I will proudly not own for another four years.

"I'll buy this pretty lady's drink." An overweight man with an affinity for baseball caps says winking at me with his twinkling blue eyes. I feel a blush creep from the tips of my toes as I smile attentively to the kindhearted gentleman.

"Why thank ya." Without a word the barman places the bottle directly in front of me and moves swiftly into the back room. Gee, I wonder what has got into him?

"She don't want it." A gruff voice declares behind me.

I glance over my shoulder and spot a cranky looking Wolverine eyeing the man with contempt. "Logan!" I greet happily. "Come join us. Ya don't mind do ya mister?" I ask my drinking buddy. He gulps and shakes his head, seemingly lost for words. "Aww that's nice. Ain't that nice Logan?"

My fellow X-man arches an eyebrow incredulously and plucks the bottle out of my reach. "Take it and leave." Logan growls, taking a menacing step towards my new found friend and thrusting my beer bottle into his openly sweaty palms. The man nods vigorously and slowly backs away, his eyes wide with an abundance of terror and sheer panic.

"Did ya have to scare him away?" I ask unhappily, tracing a finger through the spilt beer on the bar.

"Yeah."

"He was only bein' friendly."

"No, he weren't," Logan grunts unapologetically. "Ain't you got any street smarts in that head of yours?"

I watch my feral friend seat himself on the stool beside me. "Yeah, course ah have." I reply defensively.

"Coulda' fooled me." He snorts, digging in his jacket pocket in search of his trusty cigar. I frown hurtfully at his choice of unkind words. He's mocking me just like the others.

Logan looks up with a cigar in hand and sighs heavily. "I'm just lookin' out for you Kid. Guys like that only want one thing."

"Ah know." I whisper despondently. "But he couldn't have tried anythin'. My skin..."

"Your skin means Jack shit. It ain't gonna stop anyone willin' enough." He scratches the days worth of stubble on his chin and exhales sharply. "Look, I ain't sayin' that you're not entitled to have some fun but you gotta be careful."

"Logan?"

"What?" He answers, lighting his cigar and taking a lazy, much needed drag.

"Can we change the subject now?" I request uncomfortably, fidgeting in my seat.

"You read my mind. How bout' we show these chumps how the seasoned pros handle their booze?" Logan smirks, chomping on his cigar and ruffling my hair with a calloused hand.

* * *

"Logan?".

"Yeah?" He responds, draining the last of his brand of Canadian beer and ordering another.

"Why are ya here?" I enquire, albeit rather drunkenly, nursing my own half empty bottle.

"What do you mean?"

"Ah mean, why are ya here drinkin' with me? Ain't ya got better things to do with your time?" I can never understand why he chooses to spend time with the likes of me.

"Nope." I gulp the remainder of my beer, rest my drowsy worn out head on the bar and close my eyes. "You think maybe you've had enough?"

"No." I tell him solemnly. "He still ain't satisfied, he wants more."

"Who does?" He asks suspiciously.

I crack open an eyelid and grin mischievously. "Oh no ya don't, ya gotta answer my question first."

"Kid..."

"Why are ya here Logan?"

He groans in discomfort and rolls his eyes. "You looked like shit in trainin' and you kept makin' rookie mistakes. Somethin' was botherin' you..."

"Shame on ya." I tease him, interrupting his explanation. "Ya really followed me down here to find out whats wrong, didn't ya?"

"Yeah, you've got me. So spill." Logan growls impatiently. "What's up?"

"David." I huff massaging my temples as he begins to stir.

"Who's this David fella?"

"No one ya know." I hiss as an intolerable headache clogs my mind.

"Might not know him but that don't mean I don't wanna castrate him. So what did he do?" He questions, narrowing his eyes.

"Nothin'. He hasn't done anythin'!" I cry harshly, silently begging David to cease with the theatrics. Listen to me you fool, he's already suspicious and if you keep this up he's going to go straight to the Professor. I don't want them to think that I'm crazy, please David. Please just work with me for once.

I gasp as the jarring pain disappears and I gaze up into Logan's worried face. Gaze up? Oh, I'm on the floor. "Um, it was a dizzy spell." I mutter weakly.

"Yeah, course it was." He replies unconvinced. "Up you get. It's way past your bed time. One eyes gonna have my ass."

Logan hauls me to my feet, places a hand on my shoulder and guides me out of the bar. "My bed time?" I snort. "Ah ain't got no bed time silly."

"You've got a curfew though." He unhelpfully reminds me.

I stumble into the biting air with all thought of our cheery banter forgotten. "Logan, why is life so hard?"

He throws an arm around me and steers me in the direction of his truck. "Just is." I glance at him pleadingly, seeking a more detailed answer. "When you go through shit in your life, you need to remember one thing."

"What's that?"

"You've gotta have a reason." He says gruffly. "You have to find a reason to keep fightin' on through those hard times."

"Oh." I utter pensively. "Have ya found yours?"

"Yeah, I think I might have." Logan answers pulling me into a warm and reassuring embrace.

Snuggling into his chest, I inhale the comforting aroma of cigar smoke, feeling ever so safe as the torment, anguish and misery wash away. "Am ah gonna get in trouble for missin' curfew?" I mumble into his shirt.

"Nah, the Cajun's on perimeter check tonight. I've saved his ungrateful ass enough times, he owes me." Logan releases me from his grasp and rummages in his pocket for another cigar. "Don't know bout' you but I'm starved. How bout' we stop at a diner on the way back?"

I smile lovingly at him and nod my head as he turns and walks away. If he asked me to follow him to the ends of the earth I would. Why you ask? Because no one has ever made me care about myself the way Logan does. He reminds me that having a friend is a beautiful thing and I know that I'll never be lonely with him at my side.

"Marie!"

"Comin'!" I shout back, jogging to his truck. That's the best part of it, Logan is the only person I've ever trusted enough to tell him my real name. And do you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
